


Reunions: Whole

by shinychimera, Yeomanrand



Series: Reunions [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: 1000-5000 Words, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Rare Pairing, Safer Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-06
Updated: 2009-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinychimera/pseuds/shinychimera, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeomanrand/pseuds/Yeomanrand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard McCoy didn't start out as a grumpy old man; when Christopher Pike first met him at a McCoy family reunion, he was happy, ambitious, and sweetly seductive.</p><p>~~~</p><p><i>Chris pushed forward, kissing more fiercely now, and eased Leonard back and down onto the uneven mat of leaf litter and soft dirt. Their bodies were pressed together, hip to hip, groin to groin, chest to chest, with Chris' weight holding him deliciously captive against the good Georgia earth. Leonard wriggled upwards, straining to close every gap between them as they kissed.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunions: Whole

**Author's Note:**

> **Authors:** [](http://yeomanrand.livejournal.com/profile)[**yeomanrand**](http://yeomanrand.livejournal.com/) and [](http://shinychimera.livejournal.com/profile)[**shinychimera**](http://shinychimera.livejournal.com/)  
> **Warnings:** Depending on where you live, 17-year old Leonard may still count as underage.  
> **Disclaimer:** We do not own any of these characters.
> 
> **Notes:** You can thank [](http://community.livejournal.com/ontd_startrek/profile)[**ontd_startrek**](http://community.livejournal.com/ontd_startrek/) for this, because [](http://sevedra.livejournal.com/profile)[**sevedra**](http://sevedra.livejournal.com/) posted all [these pictures of a young Karl](http://community.livejournal.com/ontd_startrek/484419.html), and then [](http://serai1.livejournal.com/profile)[**serai1**](http://serai1.livejournal.com/) posted all [these pictures of Bruce](http://community.livejournal.com/ontd_startrek/685802.html), and then...
> 
> Originally [posted](http://community.livejournal.com/st_reboot/870444.html) on [](http://community.livejournal.com/st_reboot/profile)[**st_reboot**](http://community.livejournal.com/st_reboot/)

Every mid-summer, as far back as Leonard could remember and a lot further back than that, the McCoys got together for a sort of family reunion. The gathering was always raucous, with several dozen relations in attendance; knees were skinned, stories were told, alcohol was imbibed, and old intra-family feuds were rekindled.

_And despite all that_, he thought, leaning back against the trunk of the peach tree whose shade he was enjoying, _it still manages to be boring as hell._

His guilty gaze flicked over to the table starting to groan under the weight of the feast, but his grandmother was deep in conversation with one of the other matriarchs. Not that she could hear him swearing in his thoughts -- but she'd still know; she could read his face just fine.

The day was warm enough that he'd decided to get out of the sun, but it wasn't unpleasantly humid. Just like every year. Sometimes he wondered if his Gran didn't have a touch of the esper about her, at least where the weather was concerned.

He looked back across the field, at the ten small-but-not-tiny cousins he was supposedly keeping an eye on. They were involved in some convoluted form of tag and didn't really need a whole lot of looking after, or no more than he would have at their age anyway. Knowing a "grown-up" had been designated and was somewhere nearby in case of foul play or injury -- and ready to keep them out of the paddock or away from the creek without direct supervision -- was enough. He watched for a while, padd resting on his knees, smiling slightly and trying to sort out the rules.

Another pick-up truck full of boring cousins rumbled across the field, making a wide turn to pull up alongside the other dusty vehicles. Leonard squinted, though; he didn't recognize half the tall boys clambering out of the back. Not boys, he realized suddenly, eyes widening at the scale of the hiking packs they were hefting -- half a dozen young men he'd never seen before.

His interest sharpened. These must be the shipmates off the _Lowell_ his cousins Jens and Joel had arranged to bring along; they'd started their shore leave by hiking the Appalachian Trail for a couple of weeks, finishing up at the southern end near to home. Gran and Pop had rearranged the house that morning, making room for them; Leonard had helped them squeeze a spare bed in next to his bookshelves. Gran always knew exactly who all was coming to dinner.

And she'd obviously been expecting them -- she levered up out of her chair to give hugs to the two dark-haired cousins, and shake hands with the other fellas as they were introduced. The tallest one had an easy smile and short golden-brown curls that were being tossed around in the breeze, but he also stood straightest, gave Gran the respectful attention she deserved. Leonard approved.

He didn't so much hear Gran shoo them off to stow their gear in the farmhouse as read it from her expression and gestures. He figured he'd end up sharing with Jens or Joel, but he didn't deny the tight clench in the pit of his stomach at the possibility he'd be rooming with the tall stranger. He let the padd slip down into his lap.

Unabashedly curious, Leonard watched the group head up the walk to the kitchen, Jens in the lead. The air around him was quiet except for the soughing of the wind through the leaves and the men's laughter; he knew the buzz of conversation wouldn't pick up again until the newcomers were out of sight, in the house.

"Uncle Leonard?"

"Yes?" He automatically turned, half-expecting a report of scrape, bruise, or cut from the breathless tone of whichever child was speaking. Instead, he was drenched in a simultaneous barrage of water balloons and giggles.

Startled, he glared at them for the moment it took for them to lose their collective nerve and go racing back to the far side of the field. As desired, he chased after them, careful not to catch anyone until they were down along the creek. He slung the littlest up over his shoulder and went wading in. The rest gathered around him in the chilly ankle-deep water, laughing and shrieking.

They splashed and played for a while, Leonard keeping an eye on the sun. He was a happy, wet, muddy mess by the time he started corralling them back toward their parents to clean up for supper. Gran smiled at him and he bent over for a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm going up to the house to change," he said.

"Don't you go getting mud all over my clean floors, Leonard."

"No, ma'am."

He trotted up the walk, stopping at the kitchen door to peel off his shoes and socks and roll his jeans halfway up his calves before going inside. He took a deep breath, savoring the homey scents around him. Pop, Uncle Alan, and Cousin Marie were still working away at a few last minute dishes, and the kitchen itself was nearly as warm as the outside.

"Leonard!" his father said, trying to sound stern but his eyes were twinkling. "You were supposed to be keeping those kids out of trouble, not helping them."

He shrugged and grinned.

"Thought I was just keeping them out of everyone's hair," he said. "Wasn't told how."

Pop laughed; Marie swatted at him with a dishtowel and Uncle Alan said, "Get on with you, then."

Leonard grinned and ducked through the swinging door into the hall. He took the stairs two at a time; he'd be grateful for the cool later, but he was still wet enough to find the house chilly. He slowed when he reached the landing, pausing to listen at the top of the stairs. He heard neither low voices in conversation, nor water running in the shower; the floor was quiet. So Jens and the others were resting, one way or another, and Leonard was careful to keep his bare feet soundlessly on the rug.

Gran would _kill him_ if he disturbed their guests before they were ready -- or supper was.

Leonard stripped off his shirt as he came up to his bedroom door, planning to duck in and grab a quick change of clothes so's he could dry off and dress in the bathroom, just on the off-chance the occupant was sleeping.

He wasn't sleeping, and he wasn't a cousin. The tall blond stood at the window in a clean pair of pants, looking out at the growing spread of picnic tables, blankets and lawn chairs below, rubbing a towel absently over the side of his head. His bare, tanned back was straight, and when the doorknob hit the wall, he turned. His eyes were very blue.

"Sorry," Leonard said, only slightly breathless, and turned toward his closet. "Just getting a change of clothes."

"Don't let me stop you." The other man's voice, low and a little rough, went straight to his groin. The stranger watched him for a moment, licked his lips, and then looked back out the window. "How many of you are there, out there, anyway?"

"Hundred twenty-eight, right now," Leonard answered, tugging a dry shirt and jeans off their hangers, and pulling them up against his belly, trying to figure a way to suppress his own limbic system. It sure would be nice to finally grow out of telling the whole world when he was interested. "There'll be hundred and forty-two by the end of the evening, though. Not counting dogs an' babes in arms."

He glanced over his shoulder. The stranger's eyebrows were raised; he'd dropped the hand with the towel. His chest, Leonard noted in a glance, was nicely muscled with a patch of coarse light hairs across the center.

"_One hundred and forty-two_. All relations?"

Leonard wasn't sure why he sounded so surprised. He met the man's gaze.

"Mostly. A few friends. This is a small gathering, though. Last year we had hundred and eighty. Most of the Washington cousins couldn't make it this year." Clothing gathered, he remembered his manners and offered the man his hand. "I'm sorry. Leonard McCoy."

"Chris Pike." He sounded bemused, though his grip was firm. "I'm not sure I could name eighteen relatives, let alone keep track of one hundred and eighty."

Leonard laughed. "I can't name them all, or tell you exactly how we're related," he said, honestly, "I think only Gran and maybe Great-Aunt Leigh can keep everyone straight."

Chris grinned at him, a mischievous twinkle in his eye that didn't make Leonard's wet jeans any more comfortable. He casually shifted the dry clothes down to waist level.

"So what do _you_ do when you can't remember or don't know someone's name?"

"If they're younger, call 'em cousin; if they're older, it's aunt or uncle, depending."

A curious tilt to the head. Chris sat down on the spare bed, watching his hands idly fold the damp towel. "But I'm not part of the family."

"You are now, since Gran welcomed you. You're now entitled to the reunions, the famous baked beans, and all the stories you'll hear for the first time round the fire tonight."

"Let me guess, five-hundredth time for you?"

Leonard grinned. "Something like."

Chris' eyes flicked over Leonard briefly but then roamed back around the room, settled on the books on the shelves above him.

"Big on the sciences, aren't you?"

"I'm in pre-med at Ole Miss, so I guess you could say so." Leonard flushed, slightly, in remembered pleasure. He was looking forward to starting in September, even if it would be the first time he'd been completely away from family in his seventeen years of life.

"Really? Pre-med?" Chris looked impressed, reassessing. "That's hard work, becoming a doctor." His voice was firmer, somehow. The chit chat had been friendly, before. Now it was _interested_.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me," Leonard said, intentionally holding the man's gaze. "But I suspect you know what it's like to be sure what you want."

A shallow dimple appeared on his cheek. "That I do." The tone was smooth, confident, innocent. The way his eyes flicked again across Leonard's wet jeans and bare chest -- not so innocent.

A clatter of pans sounded from the kitchen below, drawing Leonard's attention. "Look, I've got to get changed so I can go help out," he said, reluctantly. "See you down at dinner, yeah?"

"Sure," Chris said with a smile.

Leonard got down the hall into the bathroom, then had to lean his head back against the closed door. The room was steamy and warm, his heart was racing, and he was a little shocked at his own boldness. Was he really planning to pursue this? He wasn't a tease, after all, and it wasn't like he was a complete babe-in-the-woods where sex was concerned ... but Chris was not just some kid at school.

Of course, remembering Gran sitting him down for The Talk was enough to throw creek-cold water over his ardor.

He stripped and dropped his wet clothes into the laundry chute before hopping into the shower to rinse off the last of the mud. He dried off quickly and re-dressed, running a comb through his hair. He got to the kitchen just in time to be handed a heaping tray of biscuits hot out of the oven. If it was one or two shy of its original quota when he got it out to the tables, well, he was a growing boy.

Chris came outside shortly after, but his Starfleet friends swept him up and besides, Leonard was busy distributing serving spoons into ambrosia salad and three-bean salad and egg salad and how many different types of salad did the family need anyway? He kept sneaking looks though, at the easy way Chris laughed, the confident posture, the lean grace that said he was probably equally good at shooting pool and winning fistfights.

Pop finally came out of the kitchen with the big bubbling pot of beans, and as if Pavlov had rung his bell, Leonard was suddenly kept busy serving up for hungry relatives. He didn't mind, not really; his mind was free to wander as long as he looked like he was paying attention. And it didn't take long until everyone was settled with their plates, stragglers dishing up for themselves.

He glanced over at the group of men again. Jens had always been a sloucher, but he, too, was sitting straighter, next to Chris, who was grinning again at Joel, who was telling a story with quick sharp gestures. They all deferred to him, Leonard noticed, though he didn't think they were aware they were doing so. But the body language was real similar to the way people were with Gran.

Chris glanced over, and the smile took on a slightly different tone when he caught Leonard watching. Leonard looked down at his empty plate, aware he was blushing and not wanting the teasing that would result if his cousins followed Chris' gaze.

After dinner, while Pop was lighting the bonfire, he drifted back down to the peach tree to pick up the padd he'd dropped. The younger cousins were either drowsing alongside parents settling in for their annual discussion-cum-arguments, or were out hunting up kindling -- or marshmallow sticks -- in the fast-fading twilight.

He wasn't entirely surprised when someone joined him by the tree. Chris stood there, holding two tall glasses of Uncle Owen's mint julep, only the thinnest edge of his profile outlined by the firelight.

"So is there any quiet place around here that's not going to have kids spying on it all evening long?"

Leonard had already considered this. "Follow me."

He led Chris down past the creek and up the slope, letting the trees and the frogs and the crickets do the peaceful talking. There was a second clearing not that far inside the treeline hidden behind an apparently impassable knot of brambles; one of Leonard's favorite places to sit and think.

They settled shoulder to shoulder against the hollow log, sipping at the not-quite-cold-enough drinks and looking up at the crescent moon and the stars. To Leonard, the sky had always been of one piece ... a sparkling sweep of beauty that wheeled slowly by in the night, constant and comfortably distant. But Chris eagerly picked out individual pieces -- not just constellations, but nearby planets and faraway star systems, orbiting satellites and spacedocks -- sharing a frighteningly wide world that was as familiar to him as this stretch of hills was to Leonard. And maybe, in his kind way, making sure Leonard understood he was going back there soon.

"So much out there." Leonard understood just fine. He shifted slightly so their thighs were touching and stretched his arm along the log, against Chris' broad back. "Never thought the skies were crowded before."

"They're not," Chris answered, that shallow dimple reappearing. He looked away from the stars, laid a hand against Leonard's cheek, and savored his face, his eyes, before he brushed their lips together softly. Leonard brought his own hand up to wrap around the back of Chris' neck, not pulling him closer, but not letting him draw away, either. The kiss tasted sweetly of bourbon and mint.

They explored each other gradually, letting the kiss deepen at its own pace, with pauses for fingers to trace cheeks, eyebrows, the sensitive rim of an ear. The night hummed patiently around them as their breath caught and changed.

Chris let his hands rub circles, ovals, spirals over Leonard's shirt, his tongue wandering soft and warm through Leonard's mouth. Then he tugged the hem of his shirt up and slid cool fingers up underneath, and Leonard felt a delightful shudder throughout his body. Firm fingertips probed the contours and creases of his torso, pausing over every irregularity, tracing his ribs and his sternum, and finally tickling at one nipple. He moaned, low in his throat, his own hand coming down to Chris' hip, thumb sliding just under the waist of his jeans.

Chris pushed forward, kissing more fiercely now, and eased Leonard back and down onto the uneven mat of leaf litter and soft dirt. Their bodies were pressed together, hip to hip, groin to groin, chest to chest, with Chris' weight holding him deliciously captive against the good Georgia earth. Leonard wriggled upwards, straining to close every gap between them as they kissed.

Then Chris rolled onto his back, pulling the younger man with him, pushing his chest upright, fumbling to find the lowest button on his shirt and laughing when his fingers scrabbled against the hard-stretched denim over Leonard's erection.

"Damn it, you do it," he said breathlessly, and seized the bottom of his own t-shirt and stripped it upwards, writhing against the dirt to help it along.

Leonard didn't bother unbuttoning, just dragged his shirt over his head the same way, then unstraddled Chris long enough for both of them to get out of shoes and jeans, kicking in their frustration. Chris laughed again, and pulled a square condom packet from his pocket without embarrassment before tossing the jeans aside and letting his head settle back on the ground. "This part never goes fast enough, does it?"

Leonard could only smile and shake his head, still panting from the hard kisses and the thrill of his own boldness. He knelt naked alongside Chris, gazing hungrily at the lean golden body turned silver in the moonlight, and saw the blue-black eyes ask a question his mouth hadn't quite framed yet.

Leonard reached out and took the packet from Chris' hand, opened it, made sure which way the condom unrolled. Stroked a hand down from the patch of hair on the center of the man's chest, down to the lightly furry navel, and beyond. Pushed fingers into the clean tangle of pubic hair, parted them around the long hard cock that curved slightly to the right, nudged at it lightly from underneath with the back of his hand. Chris made a wordless noise when Leonard squeezed the base of his prick between fingers, then drew it up and away from his body so that he could roll the lubricated condom down into place.

Leonard planted a knee up near Chris' ribcage and pulled the other leg over him, straddling his belly, then wiggled backward so that the slick cock nestled provocatively in the crack of his ass.

"You're okay with -- ?" Chris started to ask, but Leonard shushed him.

"I know what I want, remember?"

Chris nodded, looking up at him with wondering appreciation. Leonard knew the view wasn't bad; he had a long-time cross-country runner's body, all long lithe muscles and smooth skin, except for the broad sloping shoulders that could have belonged to a wrestler or a football player. Leonard began to rock his hips, rubbing his own scrotum against Pike's body while the cock behind him slid up and down, slicking everything between his cheeks.

The slow build seemed to please Chris, and he brought his hands up to stroke and squeeze at Leonard's chest -- palms, knuckles, fingertips, fingernails, an endless variety of touches, spiraling inexorably downwards until both hands ended up wrapped around Leonard's cock and balls. He pulled up ever so gently, and Leonard eased forward until he felt the head of the prick in just the right spot. He pushed back half an inch, an inch, and stopped with a faint shudder.

Penetration wasn't a _new_ experience for him, but it wasn't entirely familiar either. Leonard felt stretched, pierced, vulnerable, with his cock and his scrotum and his ass all at the mercy of a man he'd just met. But though Leonard's tight heat made him moan feverishly, Chris waited, quivering only slightly inside him, stroking Leonard's cock slowly and watching his face. Gradually, Leonard let himself sink down farther, hearing his breath harsh in his ears, and the burn subsided beneath the wet slide of flesh on flesh, flesh _in_ flesh.

Chris was rolling his head from one side to the other, making harsh noises of his own, by the time Leonard settled flush against his hipbones, swayed slightly to finish stretching himself around Chris' cock. He finally remembered his hands, which had been resting forgotten against his thighs, and ran them up the under curve of the other man's ribcage. When he was ready for more, he leaned forward a little, pressing hands on the firm pectoral muscles, letting them bear his weight while he arced his hips forward and back, almost up off the hard cock and then back down again.

The wind rippled through the oaks and hickories, the frogs sang their urgent chorus, and the night gained a heartbeat, two men grunting, groaning, rocking together in the silvery darkness. Chris lifted and thrust beneath him, shifting the grip on Leonard's cock from right hand to left hand and back again as sweat filmed their skin.

When Chris pulled up his knees to get more leverage, Leonard sat up straight, letting his hands dangle to his sides and his head fall back as Chris struck sparks in new places inside of him. He cried out -- he had never felt so abandoned, so overwhelmed by the feel of every nerve ending. The glittering arc of stars overhead filled his vision as he gasped for breath, and he felt like he was falling into the universe as he came.

Chris continued to push gently inside him, letting him ride out the pleasure, then shifted them one slow limb at a time until he had rolled Leonard onto his back. Laying kisses on his neck and collarbones, Chris let the pace of his thrusts build again until he was blind and gasping, pinning Leonard against the earth. It was almost too much sensation, pressure and aches inside him and out, warm lazy looseness in his joints, bourbon-dirt smell of spilled juleps everywhere, drowsy cock trapped sticky and raw between them, sweat and salt and sliding muscles, and Chris making guttural, shuddery noises as he drove into him deeper and deeper. Chris cried out high and loud when the orgasm shook him, locking the thick muscles of his thighs and his ass in sudden stillness as his cock danced to its final collapse.

Their recovery was slow and happy and quiet, among the crickets and the stars, and then they chuckled together as they picked leaves out of each other's hair, found and traded bits of clothing, and cleaned up the spilled glasses and the condom and its wrapper. They walked down the slope together, and crossed the creek to where the light of the bonfires started to overwhelm the moonlight.

Leonard watched Chris start to pull on that straight military bearing of his, before he stepped out of the darkness, and suddenly Leonard didn't want the peace they'd found together to end. "Hey..." he said, touching the man's hip. "Let's just go up to my room instead."

Chris turned and tilted his head, that gesture that just seemed a part of him. He relaxed again, smiling, and dropped his arm around Leonard's shoulders. They walked toward the house together, the singing and laughter around the fires fading into the night behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> Special added bonus: this little tale was remixed as a hard-edged Mirrorverse story for the Remix Challenge -- see _[Bold Venture](http://severinne.livejournal.com/56715.html)_ by the brilliant [](http://severinne.livejournal.com/profile)[**severinne**](http://severinne.livejournal.com/) to see young Leonard meet Commander Pike at a very different McCoy family gathering.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Bold Venture](https://archiveofourown.org/works/155942) by [severinne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne)
  * [Foolish Pleasure](https://archiveofourown.org/works/197699) by [severinne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne)




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